I Won't
by Meowshmallowx
Summary: Lovino has given up. Antonio and Feliciano haven't. Rated M for language.


Lovino coughed, miserable. The pain was constant now, pulsating from his chest throughout his body and dulling only in evasive sleep. His head lolled back onto the pillow, heavy eyelids dropping.

* * *

A knock on the door awoke him—the nurse.

"Hello, bella," Lovino greeted her with a weary smile.

The nurse smiled sweetly back at him, pale green eyes sparkling.

"Hello, Lovino," she replied. "I have—"

Another coughing fit overtook him, cutting her off. Lovino shook, clutching the side of the bed. The nurse rushed to his bedside, concerned and ready to aid, and he sucked in ragged gasps of air, forcing another smile.

"Mi dispiace, signorina," he apologized between weak coughs.

"No need to apologize," she assured him, rubbing his back soothingly. "I only came to tell you that there are two people here to see you. Are you okay with that?"

Lovino frowned. He was exhausted.

"Who are they?" he asked.

"Antonio Fernandez Carriedo and Feliciano Vargas," she replied.

Lovino winced. He couldn't turn them away—but he didn't want them seeing him like this.

"All right," he finally responded. "They can come in."

The nurse nodded and left. Lovino shut his eyes, leaning his head back against the pillow. Dio, he was tired. Lung cancer was exhausting.

The door creaked, and Lovino's eyes snapped back open. Feliciano peered through the gap, hesitant but sweet as always. Lovino felt a stab of guilt when he noticed that his fratellino's eyes were rimmed with red. _That's right. The doctor must have called everyone today,_ he thought.

"Buona sera, Lovi," called Feliciano, darting into the room. "Ludwig would be here, but he's so busy, it's c-crazy!"

Antonio followed close behind, hurrying with Feliciano to Lovino's side. Lovino stared at his husband, at his tired green eyes.

"Lovi," cooed Antonio, taking his hand. "How are you?"

"Lovino, bastards. _Lovino_ ," grumbled Lovino through a tiny smile.

Antonio laughed and laced his fingers through Lovino's, stopping suddenly when Lovino flinched.

"Did I hurt you?" Antonio queried, brow furrowed. "Lo siento. I really didn't mean to."

"I'm fine, damn it," muttered Lovino. "It's just..."

"Just what?" Antonio pressed.

Lovino's mouth twisted bitterly.

"My hands are so disgusting now," he admitted.

Antonio laughed; Feliciano giggled, the sound abnormally subdued.

"You think I care about that, amorcito? I plan to hold your hand even when it's wrinkling and spotty," declared Antonio, lifting Lovino's hand and kissing it.

Lovino made a face, secretly pleased. His gaze flicked over to Feliciano on his other side, who had been frighteningly silent ever since the tentative greeting. His brother's hands were clasped behind his back, almost like—

"What're you trying to hide?" demanded Lovino, swallowing another coughing fit.

Feliciano smiled sheepishly, revealing a gift bag.

"I brought you something from Italia," he told him softly.

Lovino held out a hand, determined to keep it steady. The bag was heavy—at least, it was for him. Placing it squarely into his lap, Lovino opened it.

"Coffee beans?" he asked, glancing up at Feliciano's anxious face.

"Sì—I got your favorite kind. From Rome." Feliciano bit his lip. "Do you like it?"

Lovino scoffed, blinking hard. He was not crying—over some stupid fucking _coffee_ , of all things!

"It's whatever, idiota," he grunted.

Feliciano's expression crumpled in relief.

"I was so worried you'd hate it and get mad at me because it's stupid and I'm stupid and—"

"You are stupid." Feliciano froze, looking about ready to cry. "Ma ti amo, fratellino."

Feliciano sniffled and rubbed at his eyes.

"Ti posso abbracciare?" he mumbled.

Lovino rolled his eyes.

"Fine," he relented. "Just—ugh, fuck this—be gentle, yeah?"

"Ovviamente!"

Feliciano bent over, gently embracing Lovino. After a moment, Lovino lifted a hand, rubbing his sweet little brother's back comfortingly. When Feliciano finally pulled away, his eyes were brimming. He sniffled again.

"Hey," snapped Lovino, glaring, "I'm not dead yet. Quit that."

Antonio flinched. Feliciano shuddered.

"Don't say that, Lovi," Feliciano scolded him through a tight throat. "You're not going to...to..."

Feliciano wiped frantically at his eyes, falling silent.

"It's just stage three," cut in Antonio, smiling tightly. "There's still hope, Lovi."

Lovino sneered.

"I can feel my body fucking _dying_. There are three inoperable tumors in my lungs, and the cancer's spread to the lymph nodes where my bronchi meet my trachea. It's only going to keep fucking spreading. You didn't see the doctor's face when he talked to me—I did. _I did_. Dio cazzo, I did."

Lovino gritted his teeth against the sob his voice threatened to hitch on. It sounded so much worse out loud.

"Lovino—"

And then he _was_ crying, open and raw and loud—shattered, shaking groans that left him inside out and torn apart. Through the blur of tears, Lovino was vaguely aware of Antonio sitting down on the bed and hugging him, of Feliciano holding both his hands in his own. He buried his face in Antonio's shoulder, shaking, and gripped Feli's hands as though they were all holding him to this world.

"I'm dying," whispered Lovino, "but _God_ —I'm not ready to die."

Antonio clutched him tighter, pressing their foreheads together.

"You aren't dying, mi corazón," he insisted, his voice cracking. "You aren't dying."

"Because you're strong, fratello. You're stronger than me. You always were," added Feliciano, voice shaking. "I need you to stay here with—me."

"I can't," he managed, shaking his head. "Dio, I want to, but—"

"Please stop," Feliciano interrupted him, squeezing his eyes shut. "Lovino, don't say that."

Antonio moved so that their heads rested on each other's shoulders, turning his so that his lips brushed Lovino's ear, making him quiver slightly.

"You have to stay strong for him, sí? You're not dying—you're...very sick, but you will get better. Don't give up. Say it with me." Antonio pulled back and met his eyes firmly. "Say it, Lovi. Say it. Don't give up."

Antonio wiped lovingly at the tears shining all down Lovino's face. Lovino trembled, looking first at his husband and then at his baby brother.

"I—won't give up," he promised softly.

"Stronger, Lovi. _Louder_. Tell yourself—don't give up."

"I won't give up."

"You promise?" It was Feliciano this time, fragile and so scared. "Lovi?"

Lovino held his brother's gaze. He believed his words—he needed to.

"I promise." For the two people who made up his world—anything. "I won't give up."

And he didn't.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Hope you liked it! Below is a translation of all the various words and phrases in Italian and Spanish:

 _Bella_ : Beautiful

 _Mi dispiace, signorina_ : I'm sorry, young lady (the equivalent of "Miss")

 _Dio_ : God

 _Fratellino_ : Little brother

 _Buona sera_ : Good evening

 _Lo siento_ : I'm sorry

 _Italia_ : Italy

 _Sì (Italian)/Sí (Spanish)_ : Yes

 _Idiota_ : Idiot; you jerk

 _Ma ti amo_ : But I love you

 _Ti posso abbracciare?_ : Can I hug you?

 _Ovviamente_ : Of course

 _Dio cazzo_ : Fucking God

 _Mi corazón_ : My heart

 _Fratello_ : Brother

I am very sorry if any of these translations are inaccurate. I studied a little Spanish in lower school and have only just started studying Italian. Let me know if it's abysmal and needs changing, if you would be so kind!


End file.
